


Kiss me on the mouth and set me free.

by orphan_account



Series: The Two Crowns : B Side [20]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - A Song of Ice and Fire, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Pre-Relationship, dfab character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-19
Updated: 2016-03-19
Packaged: 2018-05-27 17:57:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6294199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Is yours? Semi wants to ask. Is your heart true, Satori?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kiss me on the mouth and set me free.

_“Go to Bear Island” Lord Ushijima had said, looking at Semi with the same expression as ever. This blank face of his, as harsh as winter, but they could see deep inside, deep in the brown of his eyes that seemed to stare down everything and everyone the Lord met; that a storm still raged inside of him._

_Semi had stayed silent, standing straight, unmoving, waiting for anything they knew could come;_

 

_“You will be my guest there, Ghost, and Satori knows how to behave. If not, make him do so.” Ushijima had added, looking away, and Semi knew this dismissal. Knew to take the small scroll at the right end of the desk, knew not to ask questions. They obeyed, observing  the northern court and they knew Ushijima to still be dangerous to them, to their presence here._

 

 _So they walked away, closing the door as silently as they could behind them, their steps light against the stone floor. Bear Island rang in their head, until the words were distorted, and Semi lost themselves  to the whispers of it. To the whispers about its Lord, about this man as wild as the wildlings, as fierce as the iron men  and said to be as mad as the Mad King once was._  
  
_Lord Tendou was known of all, known about his peculiar  queerness and his fearless loyalty to Ushijima._

  _And Semi did not know how they felt about this, to be amongst wolves, bears, and any northern animal who could chew them out and throw them to Ushijima’s  feet if they did not like them._

_The dornish spy, the dornish Ghost, the queer and unfamiliar face always following their Lord’s steps._

 

_Their  fingers clenched slowly around the paper, the creases made loud in the silence of the halls._

 

\-----

 

The hall was silent but for the sound of the shuffling, muffled steps of the servants at Tendou’s side, trying to look anywhere but Semi’s way. Too strange, queer up in the far north and Semi knows to recognize the servant's unease. They watch them scurrying around from the corner of their eyes, seeing them look away, looking at the still silent lord instead. Semi refrain their own shudder.  
They have heard many things about this lord, about Tendou, but the sight of him  was even more impressive than any whispers heard about. They feel the weight of the man’s stare, the intensity of it, and Semi cannot take their mind off of it, nor off the sound of his moving around, fabric against the wood of his chair. Tendou moves, and moves again minutely and it takes all of Semi’s self control not to stare at his fingers at the sway of his hips, or how his foot lightly taps the wooden dais.

 

“So.” Semi hears Tendou speak, finally, and they look up.

 

They look up to see him look straight at him, fingers splayed out on his thighs with a tremor Semi knows not to be anger, not to be distaste, and the feeling is new to them.

 

“You’re Wakkun’s ghost, right?” He adds, a bit more firmly when Semi stays silent, when he feels is looked at the same way he is looking at Semi. It is not judgement, but surprise, a misplaced interest in front of the singularity of the person in front of them.

 

Semi opens his mouth to speak, eyes back on Tendou’s face, on his big eyes that seem to eat at his face as if they talked more than his mouth, as if they truly were the door to his soul. But he cannot speak.

 

“I have heard it all!” He exclaims, eyes darting to Semi’s opened mouth briefly, to his hair and back to Semi’s slightly widened eyes. They cannot show anything, not when they are here because of Ushijima, yet this man seems to draw everything they try to keep in. “Wakatoshi has written me, after weeks of silence, to tell me of your arrival.” He adds, almost silently, as if no one but himself was supposed to hear this, and Semi finds themself to be pleased to hear the fondness of his tone, this slight petulant voice that is said to the Lord’s preferred tone when talking about their King in the North.  
  
They would not have been amused to hear anything but this, from someone so loved back in Winterfell.

 

“I am Semi ye-”

 

“The thief yes!” Tendou interrupts, waving his words away excitedly and Semi nods, controlled. They cannot get angry at him, not in presence of so many, but they feel their blood begin to boil, looking at Tendou’s expression, hearing his voice and Semi hates that they cannot focus on anything else. Not even the whispers in this room.

 

“You are very queer.” Tendou finally finishes, letting the silence spread between them. Staring still at Semi, trying to figure them out and Semi raises his chin slightly. Defiant. As an Equal. And they try not to care about the way Tendou seems to smile.

 

“So are you. With the hair.” Semi finally says, the voice not creaking despite the rough patch in their throat. They hear Tendou’s breathy laugh, rattling his ribcage like a rough cough does and they idly think it fits the strange Lord.The way his chest moves and the shoulders are drawn straighter, exposing him yet Semi sees it is not weakness, that this loudness is strength, something the southerners would have liked and despite everything, Semi is even more drawn to it.

 

The servants shuffle around even more, like a swarm of small bees fleeing their Queen.

 

“Semi then. Semi.” Tendou says again, slurring the words slightly, as if tasting the name on his tongue and Semi braces themself for anything. “Have you met my bear?” The lord says grinning widely, out of the blue, lines creasing at the corner of his eyes and Semi surprisingly finds themself to answer that _no, they have not._

 

Even though Ushijima himself has warned them of the beast. Never precising if he was talking about the animal or the man, and Semi recalls to have heard the same tone, the same jarring fondness in his tone.

 

They try not to think about the way Tendou smiles, this wicked, wide grin that speaks not of mirth, but of joy when Semi gasps upon seeing the bear. The loud clap of his hands, about how his body moves closer to Semi’s, desiring all his attention even as bear, a real one, huffs against his skin, the brown fur even darker under the grey sky of the Island. Semi watches, stares without moving yet he feels his limbs shake not in fear but thrill, in a desire he has not felt since their raiding days.  
Danger. A bear who bows to a man, as if he was a warg, a superior, fiercer being  and Semi thinks this Lord may as well surprise him more and more. _Danger_ , which bears the wide smile and eyes of Tendou’s face.

 

“What do you think Semi. Isn’t she great?!” He exclaims, hands outstretched towards the bear and Semi both and they have to bite back a grin, frowning instead, too much, libs trembling again as he feels thrill come back to him, the heat of dorne fighting the cold of north inside of him.  
  
They are Ghost, but they are the one haunted forever with this moment. The bright hair and the dark fur both, and this smile, wide and coy and everything Semi wanted to fight and desired both.

 

 

 

Tendou _talks._

 

They discover that silence is not something as usual in this stronghold as it is in Winterfell. There are whispers, the muffled sounds of the servants, and Tendou’s voice.Booming, filling the otherwise silent halls, loud against the trees in the forest until even the birds go away.  
Silence seems so odd on him, and the few times Semi has watched him, Tendou silent as a stone, there was unease in their mind.

 

Tendou talks, and Semi knows to listen.

 

They learn soon that behind the jokes, the taunts and snide remarks about everything and everyone -they idly remembers a remark on how the lady of white harbour behaves, how scathing and impolite the remark was, Tendou _knows._ He knows many things about everyone, and he talks as if no one quite understand the meaning of his words.

He talks about Lord Ushijima. About missing him, laughing about winterfell, about the melting snow and the wolves lurking outside the stronghold. Words said so fastly not many paid attention to them, slurred and laughed and uttered so quickly Semi could so easily have overlooked them.  
He talks about the sea, the boats that came and went from their shores, who was remembered and forgotten as soon as these left the North. Iron men, friend or foe, and many other from the South and far East.

  
But Tendou talks, talks and talks as if the silence is a burn on his skin, but never are his words empty. They know to listen, to the details in Tendou’s words, how he chooses his words carefully, drowned in idle talks.

 

Semi first made sure to listen to everything, to the inner politics of the northrons, to how the strength of Bear Island fights off Iron men still, Ushijima’s banner alongside the great black bear of their sigil. There is pride in Tendou’s words, whenever their lord, whenever his friends are mentioned.

 

“Wakatoshi sent you then.” He asks one day, a fortnight after Semi has arrived and he recoiled, ready to snap at such forgetfulness. “No one was ever sent to me. To Reon for sure. To Yamagata too,  even after everything..” He trails off, lips slightly parted in his thoughts as they wander the halls, Semi slightly behind him.

 

They know of Lord Reon, of his family, and how close he and Ushijima are. How they keep secrets, how lady Niiyama holds him even closer. As close to her as Semi is -should be.  
They know of Yamagata too, even if less than they desire. But they have seen Ushijima’s tight lips, the small upturned smile and the deep frown whenever they happen to hug, and always when Semi can see them. “Do not ask” they were told many times. _You have not deserved it_ , was unsaid.

 

“But here you are.” He finally says, stopping in his tracks and turning towards them. His hands are outstretched, clenching around the air and Semi know how Tendou wants to reach for them. How he never does, not quite, not intentionally. Semi never says he would like to, to feel the scarred skin of his palms and the slight crookedness of his fingers.  “You are either a threat or a gift. A dornish poison or indeed, our northern Ghost.” Tendou’s words are sweet, calm and unhurried and these are the words, the speeches Semi has learnt never not to listen to.

They smile back then, feeling the strain against their cheeks and yet, yet it feels truer than any of the smiles they have gifted Niiyama, even against the warmth of their shared furs.

 

“What if I am. All of these and more, more than what you can handle, Lord Tendou.” They try not to pride themselves for the harsh laugh, not to desire more, more of these banters, of these hidden fights between them two as Tendou never quite seem to know what to do with them.  
  
Tendou talks, but he flirts too, unashamedly. He flirts with the handmaidens and the squires, but with Semi too. In this way Semi want sot pull back, or to pull him close until his fingers are tight against his throat, or Tendou’s tongue flat against his sex. The Bear Lord may be northron, but dornish blood boils in his veins for sure, Semi thinks. He rides amidst snow and bear like they have done against sand and horses; they flirt and jest like any of the brothel girls but his eyes are ice and his hair the red sky of Winters.

Semi has known more ferocious lords, more feral nobles and loyal thieves, and yet. Yet the North has more to offer to them.

 

“And what if I want to.” Tendou asks one night. In the dimness of the courtroom, and Semi finds themself to be surprised to feel the hot breath against their skin. “What if I want to try and handle you. My hands are strong, and my hips even more so.” He says, low and still so unashamed and they find no answer to retort. Nothing to say but a quickening of their breathing they are sure Tendou has felt for Semi feels teeth, feels the wetness of tongue that makes them want to whirl around and grab the Lord tight.

To kiss, or to maim, Semi does not know anymore. They do not move, listening to the echoing step until nothing but the nightly buzz of the servants is heard. The stone is hard against their knuckles, but at least, Semi does not feel the burn of Tendou’s kiss against his nape, they do not hear the loud beats of their heart in their ears.

They do not sleep, haunted by a slurring voice, a booming sound and by all the northern and southern Hells, _a tongue_ . Sharp as a weapon, words harsh as ice yet they dream of it as silk and warmth, of wetness and moans and Gods is it pliant under their skin.  
Semi has not dreamt of this since they  have  left the Hound and the Bastard’s bed.

 

   It is a game then, subtle and burning, and Semi shivers at night thinking of Tendou’s gaze on them. They have seen him flirt and ogle unashamedly, a false smile, sweet like warm honey, but Tendou’s frown would come out again as soon as this person turned away, and his eyes seemed smaller than usual.  
  
But never with Semi. There was an edge in his voice Semi did not identify at first, did not understand. A roughness in his voice, honest and brutal and Semi learnt to seek out the crude words, to reach out for Tendou only to hear them.  
A t night gown slipping away from their shoulder as they talked late at night, hunched over scrolls and the young Lord talking, talking about futile things and important ones, until he caught sight of skin, of Semi’s shoulder bared only for him to see.    
Fighting, sparring under the loud, demented laugh of Tendou’s.  The taunts that makes their blood boil, their thirst of violence, of blood and sand coming alive again, and Semi is then the one to push _forward_ , to push for _more_ . There is no need for their body to be pressed against Tendou so closely, no need for their thighs to straddle his waist to make him fall. Yet Semi is breathless and grinning ferociously as he stares Tendou down, his blade against the warm throat and heart  beating _hard_.

 

They grin even more when Tendou makes to move, unable to do so under the weight of Semi’s body and the strength of their thighs.

 

“Yield.” They say,moving their weight forward, against Tendou’s stomach. _More._

 

“I yield.” Tendou says easily and they hear this same roughness, this desire deep in his voice and Semi suppresses a shudder. “I also want to eat you out. Or blow you. However you want it, whenever you want it.” He adds in the same breath, so casually, so roughly and Semi has to control himself not to grind against him again.

 

“We cannot use the sparring ring for ourselves.” They say instead, and they curse their voice, higher with arousal, higher with a desire they want to edge still but Tendou, Satori, breaks their barriers each day more.

 

“We could. I’m the Lord of Bear Island” Tendou laugh breathlessly, not caring for Semi not offering their hand. “I would have you in a bed though, not against sand. Even for you being Dornish.”

 

But Semi only laugh, loud and too bright, as if they were not charmed, not so utterly tempted by Tendou’s lewd offers. As if they care about something else than their dreams of Tendou’s tongue, of his hard body against theirs.

 

“I am hard to catch, Bear Lord.” they say, mirth and temptation made words, slow and unhurried. _An invitation._

 

It is a game between them, a game Semi is always tempted to lose, to finally loosen the tightness and the fire they feel in their belly, the fire in their blood not born out of bloodthirst but this primal, animalistic desire they had thought only the Hound could feel.

But they would not lose. Not today at least. Not when Tendou felt already so hot under their hands. But the day was still a long way to go, even when the Sun was so low against the skyline already.

 

 

“How do you pray to your Gods?” They ask hours after, as Tendou’s hand still on their arm, thumb pressing down on their skin and Semi tries not to focus on this. They watch Tendou pause, watch how his mouth morphs and how his face speaks as much as Tendou’s voice. _Distracting._

 

“Hm?” Tendou hums pensively, and his hand moves again on Semi’s arm. Slow, tantalizing and they try not to think of it on their bare skin. “I kneel, and they listen.” He says simply, as if nothing else was important, leaning even more against them and Semi shakes shivers off, shakes images the Gods and no one else should read in their mind.

 

“You cannot simply kneel.” They say instead, the shadow of distaste, of restlessness in their words. “You kneel for your lord, for weapons and war, but not to Gods; not this simply.”

 

They feel breathless laugh, the shake of Tendou’s shoulders against them an Semi shiver in impatience. Tendou may speak all day long, yet sometimes, he is as unreadable as Ushijima or Niiyama are.

 

“The Old ones listen, they see without you having to speak. You kneel, and the tree look into your heart. They are not the Seven, liking words and offerings and feasts. We are Andals, first men, and such things matter not. They do not care about what comes out of our mouths if our hearts are true to them.”

 

 _Is yours?_ Semi wants to ask. _Is your heart true,_ Satori?

 

But Tendou kisses them, and Semi does not have the mind to push him away, not this time. Not even as the shadow of the heart tree loom over them, and Semi feels they are watched. Yet, Tendou’s lips are too soft, too firm against theirs for Semi to care, and they turn wholly to the kiss.  
Against the warmth of Tendou’s body against his, Semi easily forgets the image of the carved face in white bark, captivated, enthralled by the man against him.  

 

Semi still does not kneel by the heart tree, even as they follow Tendou to their weirwood everyday. They feel the weight of the faces stare, feel the judgment and they idly think that it is their heart, in the end, that is not true yet.

They think the North too be too queer, too unfamiliar, and yet, even the Seven feel out of place in this land, and Semi has not yet kneeled for them either since they arrived.

  
  


Still, there is but one place where silence reigns as Lord of the North. And Bear Island is no stranger to it, even so far away from the mainland. The weirwood stands proud, still and stark against the green  forests of the island, and Semi never knows how to step between the fallen red leaves, their step louder and louder to their ears.  Yet, there was not a day they do not follow Tendou there, silent as a shadow, and never do they disturb the eerie peace the heart tree provide to their lord.

 

Tendou is silence then, silence and muffled strength as he kneels by the tree, and Semi thinks that he is not unlike Ushijima in front of their old and foreign gods. They look at him, how gracious he seems when kneeling yet they know, gods they know it is no weakness of them.

“You know many things, Semi.” he says, voice above a whisper and they recoil. Tendou is many things but silent as he speaks, and during all these days spent at his side, never has he spoke to anyone but his Gods in this sacred place.

They do not call this fear. They do not want to think of it as the dismissal that can come, as whatever Tendou as seen in them that will come to Ushijima himself.

 

“You may be our friend, and much more” he adds still silently “but you may become our foe as easily.”

 

 _I will not become one._ They want to answer, but the weight of the Gods’ stare still their words. _Not anymore._

 

“Have you ever loved?” The question startles them into silence, anger and doubt all but forgotten.

 

“Yes.” they answer after a while, and Semi forces the memories, the bitterness away. “She was as wild as wolves and as bright as the sun. I loved a man too, once, but he was never mine.”

 

Hair as bright as the dornish sand, and Semi tries not to think about her. About the raider’s Queen and how she too, left in the end.About the Hound and the Bastard, and how they fought, and Semi went North without looking back.

 

“Then maybe you know what it is, to protect someone for love. To love until it hurts, and you want to protect the one hurting.”

 

 _No._ Semi does not say. _Not quite, but I could learn to_ , they think, watching the fiery red hair, and how sad Tendou looks now.

 

“To here is one person I have loved, more than anyone, yet not as much as Wakatoshi has. The court, the closest ones to him know them. And so should you.” Semi stays silent at this, low humming sound in his throat. They know of him, of this person that Wakatoshi cannot, will not quite forget. Of the letters, the small scrolls hidden from everyone but Semi knows. Of the Iron lord; the grim Reaper who left his heart on the shore and took Ushijima’s instead.  
But Semi does not say more. These words are not for him to say. Tendou had already said too much about lord Moniwa, long hours of drunken words, of laughter and tears shed.

They know it is not jealousy, not bitter love Tendou feels for him and Ushijima both, but a hurt to see his lord and friend still lost years after. To know that his iron love is far away, never to return to any of them.

 

“If you want to understand, Semi, you should see him. Kaname is not hard to find for one who knows where to look for. You may see then, our devotion to Ushijima, and why we never quite heal from these years past.” He adds as silently as before, and Semi wishes not to hear the slight hurt, the bitterness in Tendou’s words.

 

Love hurts, Semi knows. No matter what love you feel. It is the same, whether it happens in the hot dornish desert, or against the cold winds of the North.

 

In silence, Semi kneels at Tendou’s side, not caring and not turning for Tendou’s gaze on him. Their eyes are fixed on the carved face and they wonder if  they can finally feel what Tendou had talked about, days before. The way their heart sing for the Old Gods, and how _they_ know what to look for.

 

“Eita.” they say, and they hear Tendou’s questioning sound in answer. “My name, that is.”

 

These are not the words they had intended to say. _I will not betray you, or Ushijima_ , they want to say, strong and sure. _I will not, even if I could have many months ago, and for the years to come. I swear it._

 

They still intend to pursue the Lord Reaper, still intend to see who can hold Ushijima and Tendou’s hearts so strongly after all these years, a ghost in the north Semi could never compare to. But they will not tell, not to anyone, not even to the Gods about what he may see in the Iron isles.  
Semi tries hard not to feel pride, not to feel like the Gods seem to like their words, for the weight in his chest, and the slight tremor in his limbs cease, even against the hard forest ground, even in the cold of the weirwood. There is something setting inside of them, a sense of belonging and passing a test Semi did not realize they were being judged by.

 

“Eita then, eh.” They hear Tendou say, but Semi can only hear the pounding of their heart inside of him. “I would hate to be sent to kill you then, if you betray us now;” they laugh, and Semi thinks it stupid that they too, softly laugh at this.

 

It is a threat, yet Semi knows now, that it will never come to this. Not by their own conscious actions.

 

“I swear” they finally say as Tendou gets up, brushing the dirt on his knees with swift movements. “I will not betray.”

 

“I never thought you would, Ghost.” comes the immediate answer. _Childish,_ naive even, Semi would have thought of it a long time ago; to think that someone would never betray. But they know Tendou now, they know he is the better judge of character in the North, despite the flourish and the smiles.

 

_Ah._

It is why they were sent here, Semi realizes. Not by show of trust, not to keep Lord Tendou in check for Ushijima. Not quite a guest either, as said weeks ago. Tendou is exactly this, they see now. Ushijima’s judge, the sworn sword ready against Semi’s neck, ready to strike him down  had he shown anything to prove Tendou wrong, or to prove Ushijima right.  

They grin against the fur trim of their coat, ferocious and so pleased that even so far away, even after weeks, Ushijima still could get the better of them

There was no hope yet for them to outsmart him, to keep ahead from his Lord and Semi thinks that it is rather charming, rather pleasant to think that Ushijima still saw him as a threat then, enough to send him to Bear Island. He made Tendou behave, but Satori himself had been the one to keep Semi in check in the end.

 

“I could have.” Semi keeps on, voice low and hard. Tendou’s laugh is sweet to their ears, as bright and amused as it was the first time they met.

 

“You would not have been in my bed if you could do so, Eita.” he laughs still. “Although your neck would still have been as pretty against my sword than it is against my hand and mouth, that I can tell.”

 

They shake the shiver of want, of misplaced desire at these words, rising swiftly without looking at the heart tree again, watching how Tendou looks at them as feverishly as before, and the wolfish grin he bears makes Semi want to shut him up, to kiss and fight it off Tendou’s face.

 

If this face is what ground him to the North, more than Niiyama’s promises  or Ushijima’s cold yet strong gaze, Semi already has forsaken themselves twice. Let these Gods, and the Seven be witness of their fall, of their kneeling for the North, Dorne all but forgotten.

 

They grab Tendou’s cloak, hands cold against the soft fur and his lips harsh against Tendou’s, biting the smiling lips until blood is drawn and Semi smiles back at the small whine of pain -pleasure-  the lord makes.

 

      Semi feels Tendou’s eyes on his back as they dress. They feel the soreness in his thighs and breasts, and the way their sex seems to burn, as if feeling Tendou’s tongue and fingers still, and they try not to hiss in pleasure as the fabric of their clothes caresses their skin.

They do not think of the marks on their shoulders, the way Tendou’s teeth bit the skin of their chest, and how their nipple hurt so good under the weight of the leather straps of their cloak.

Semi cannot afford to think of it, yet they smile when Tendou cannot see. It is a goodbye present how Semi exactly likes them.

 

“I will see you soon. It has been a while i have not invited myself in Winterfell. Wakatoshi sure has been missing me, even if he does not tell anyone this. ” he says, and there is not term of endearment, nothing to tell of their shared nights, of the closeness of their bodies and their hearts.

But Semi knows how to listen to Tendou’s words. They are the one to lean on against the bed, just a bit more, until lips met skin for the last time.

 

Soon, they repeat.

 

Semi thinks that they will miss it now.  The tone of Tendou’s voice, laughing, yelling, _moaning_. Winterfell’s silent hall will seem even colder to them now. That they will be the one haunted by the sound of Tendou’s voice, by the words they have sworn to the Gods.

They hope that when they will be back, when they have found the hidden truth in Great Pyke, when they have seen who Ushijima is loyal to beyond the North, Tendou will be there. They already long for the surprise they may find in Ushijima’s eyes, and the boisterous laugh of Tendou’s when they will see one another.

Semi knows their blood will always be dornish, that the sight of sand and heat will make them feel like home forever; but the face of the Old Gods and the cold of the North’s stronghold may as well be what Semi will forever seek out from now on.

  
Hair red as blood favoured, as hair bright as sun had been once. And Semi finally let go of their last memories as they leave the Island. As they imagine how someone else left the North, years before.


End file.
